Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from St Kitts & Nevis and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ossler to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Goldenarms,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nils Olav,
Dave Gahan,
This Heat,
Fifty Foot Hose,
H. Thieme,
The J.B.'s,
A Certain Ratio,
Qualms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joey Negro,
Pere Ubu,
The Techniques,
Roxette,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rites of Spring,
Technova,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gun Club,
Von Mondo,
The United States of America,
Nas,
Organ,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Seeds,
The Neon Judgement,
The Modern Lovers,
Monolake,
Sällskapet,
The Motions,
Steve Hackett,
Swans,
Visage,
David Bowie,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Walker Brothers,
Arcadia,
Rakim,
Radiohead,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yusef Lateef,
The Dirtbombs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Howard Jones,
Barbara Tucker,
Thee Headcoats,
Scratch Acid,
Anakelly,
48th St. Collective,
Blossom Toes,
The Five Americans,
L. Decosne,
Sound Behaviour,
Flipper,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sugar Minott,
Scientists,
Suburban Knight,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.